You were a nauseating complication
that had nothing to do
with the pain that I do now feel.
Your inconsistent
consistency
brings me down.

The cowl that you wear among that filthy hair
brings a halfhearted laugh
with the frown that I do now wear.
Your inconsistent
consistency
brings me down.

Amid the rope that you continue to jump
sits the lonely and lost
with the flowers we do now hold.
Your inconsistent
consistency
brings me down.